


White Waters.

by leithvoid



Category: 1917 (Movie 2019)
Genre: Death Referance, Drowing Referance, Grief/Mourning, M/M, dead bodies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:27:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22444831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leithvoid/pseuds/leithvoid
Summary: Peaceful & alone.
Relationships: Lance Corporal Blake/Lance Corporal Schofield, Tom Blake/Will Schofield
Comments: 2
Kudos: 50





	White Waters.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my beta Lau.

The water was rough, cold and sinking through his uniform. The cool liquid ran across his hot skin. He was too tired to fight the whitewater as it tossed him with passive aggression. He let it carry him, throw him and pull him under. He became submissive, while the rapids tugged on his matchstick body. He was consumed by his injuries, his heartache and trials. The man’s head stung as cold water passed over it. 

His body fell through the water into a calm rolling lake. He searched for something to hold himself above the surface. Now that his uniform was soaked it was heavy. He latched onto a passing log as if it was the only life source he was going to find.

The water was calming, inviting him into its depths. He wanted to go, he wanted to accept. Grip weak around the log, moisture pooled in his ears as he closed his eyes, descending into the darkness. It was quiet under the surface of the lake. Silence for the first time since his journey had begun. 

He pulled himself up in a panic of breath, eyes wide. His grip tightened around the log once again. Thoughts ran through his mind, one more predominant than others. He drifted again, letting the depths encourage him again. Before he let his eyes slide closed, for possibly the last time, he noticed something.

Petals. They floated upon the surface, denying the invitation. They linger on his uniform and face. He looked above him — cherry blossoms arched over the lake. The sky is blue between the branches of the shedding trees. The trees cry over him, they wilted for his pain. He lifts his hand from the water and catches one. They looked so soft and fragile before, at the orchard, and it was true.

The cherry blossoms weep for his loss, his love. They grieve for  _ Blake _ .

For a moment the man let the petals talk to him, silently convincing him to keep moving. He listened, remembering why he was here. The lake was coming to a stop, where death piled against a fallen tree. He needed to climb through bodies to reach land. To keep going, he was going to disturb the resting. He crawled across the bloated flesh, holding his breath.

Making it to land, he dragged his heavy body up. Heaving himself to his knees, then his feet, only for his body to shatter. Falling to the hard ground. Agonizing wails come from within him. He rattles as he morns. 

The world was no longer cruel. It was empty and harrowing. He was alone again.

  
  
  
  



End file.
